


the (debt)

by madameandromeda



Category: His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Explicit Sexual Tension, F/F, Femslash, Lots of Character Study surrounding Marisa Coulter in specific, Mentions of Lord Asriel/Marisa Coulter, Mentions of Past Edward Coulter/Marisa Coulter, Original Mythology based on His Dark Materials World, Three Distinct Timelines
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:28:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22365658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madameandromeda/pseuds/madameandromeda
Summary: “If you were ever to need my help, I shall vow to offer my most devoted assistance. For I am in eternal debt to you.”In which a witch and a human's paths crossed and entangled in several occasions, with the vital resemblance of these encounters being their bond manifested by the act of repaying a debt.
Relationships: Marisa Coulter/Serafina Pekkala
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	1. Starry

**Author's Note:**

> This story setting doesn't fully embrace all canon occurrences in the HDM's world. Read it as an individual journey.
> 
> Constructive criticism is very welcome and valued, but please have in your knowledge that I'm just a mere brazilian woman with intermediate english.
> 
> Personally I can picture Serafina as Eva Green in "The Golden Compass" movie, yet, I visualize Marisa with Ruth Wilson's presence.

When Marisa was young, she was tempestuously fearless in an alarming way. Impulsiveness made a significant role in all of her doings and it had led her to face several consequences from time to time, yet her sense of adventure wasn’t ceased by anything – it simply increased in more concrete forms. Intrigued about the world around her, young Marisa longed to open the margins of understanding the universe with her bare palms. She wanted to feel the throb of absolute power filling her essence and expanding her presence to the outside world.

Even at a tender age, Marisa exhaled a tangible aggressiveness expressed in how she carried herself. Of course, this brutality ended up condensed by elegance and persuasive charm.

But it took a while to develop. Layers of a personality that had been shaped by time and circumstance were like a diffuse line, and in Marisa's case, this line remained rigid by the purpose of her growing ambition.

Twenty years old and already expanding connections in politics, Marisa was ruled by her own inner ardor and had recently returned to her hometown with a purpose filling her mind.

For Marisa had decided to spend the rest of the autumn there, her motivations were individual and focused solely in expanding her own horizons in order to better cherish future occurrences. She then began her journey deep into a forest near her childhood house.

Accompanied with a small bag containing a compass, a source of light and a small emergency kit, she wanted to see exactly what was hidden in the dense woods close to her past household. Despite everything occurring in her life at the moment, Marisa couldn't contain her fascination of unraveling the forest's mysteries with her own eyes – and so she went there in the company of her daemon, who had taken the form of a golden monkey, a livid reflection of the flames emanating from her bestial being.

Her daemon, Ozymandias, had his palms rested in her left shoulder and he was looking intently at the shaking tall trees of the forest they had entered. His eyes were bright as embers, which radiated even in total darkness, such darkness that was partially kept away by the flaming torch carried by Marisa's right hand, serving the propose to guide them better through their steps.

Heavy air encompassing palpable hostile atmosphere. Sounds of wind were manifested as an expression of warning.

However, none of these factors seemed to intimidate Marisa van Zee at the peak of the beginning of her adulthood.

With a chin up, eyes sharp and incredibly focused, she remained following the direction her compass frantically pointed. To the north, farther down in the depths of the forest, a powerful presence seemed to inhabit, which Marisa knew she could find the answers to the enigma she so longed to explore before withdrawing from those lands to expand her power and influence.

From the age of ten, Marisa had become aware of a unique occurrence that took place in the forest horizons. The proximity of her bedroom window as a girl gave her a glimpse of this occurrence. It had become a routine in her past, she would get up every time still in her silk pajamas every time she noticed this anomaly manifesting itself.

Every full moon night, a diffuse wind could be found mingling with the darkness of the night skies. Eerie aerial sounds, unnatural lights exploding throughout heavy clouds that made the stars look insignificant by comparison. What mystical creature could summon such a presence, in such vicarious shape that could be found only on these specific occasions? It was the question that resonated in her mind, which she desperately longed to unravel completely beyond anything.

She felt the exact moment when her daemon analyzed the strangeness of the environment they had arrived at. Marisa regained her focus from her reflections and the golden monkey subtly squeezed the base of her shoulder as they strode north.

They reached a place beyond the tall trees, on the brink of a vast and wild river. The wind’s echoes seemed more powerful, the starry sky from that perspective conveyed a transcendental obscurity, and right there Marisa was faced with the grandeur of untamed nature.

The gale had extinguished the fire from her torch. Her daemon took a defensive posture as he landed on the ground to move aggressively at any offense in his path.

Then, another sound made an explosive apparition.

Along with a peculiar vision.

A woman – no, not simply a woman, a _witch_ – was fighting a large red bird between the blackness velvet of the night. The moon hidden in heavy clouds made the viciousness of this battle more vivid somehow. Marisa found that witch fighting for survival much more fascinating than everything she had witness so far in her life.

Struggling to strike back the attacks made by the enraged red bird, the witch screamed in agony. Noticeable in her psyche, Marisa could catch a sight of purple ruined ropes, hair pitch black and handling a unique form of wooden bow in her right hand that seemed encompass her flying state each time she tried to fly away from combat.

Yet, the witch appeared to have many fresh wounds and a very visible vulnerable stamina, even from the distance Marisa was seeing her, and this fact could determine which result that barbarian fight would lead.

In a hidden and tempestuous place in Marisa's heart, there was a morbid curiosity to behold a death given to a violent battle. But this occult desire not well-explored didn't extend to this occasion in particular.

For there was a palpable fragility in the tormented facet of the witch before her and this had enchanted Marisa’s soul enough to arouse something tender and hazardously caring there. Hearty by these unusual turbulent emotions, Marisa felt an impulsive need inspiring her to attempt to save the witch from being defeated by her wild enemy.

So, Marisa aimed to hurl her unlit wood torch toward the wild red bird in an attempt to distract him and offer the witch a greater advantage. She didn’t expect to be able to hit the bird completely, but was surprised to have inflicted him. In the midst of this, her daemon followed along and hurled stones from the ground aggressively toward the bird, wanting to stun him further.

Marisa and her daemon's goal had been well accomplished, as the red bird had his fury tamed by freshly wounds, causing him to nullify his attack from his previous prey. But that small victory was brief as the instant Marisa's gaze met the wounded witch's eyes, since the bird soon regained his composure and moved on its way to attack his new target.

"Watch out!"

Marisa felt the echo of the witch's alarming scream impacting her core. In vain she tried to run away from the fast flight of the red bird toward her, which almost immediately caught her by his beak engraved on her robes, and then carried her to the high starry sky. Marisa's daemon tried to grab hold of her legs to help her stop the bird, but he hadn’t reacted fast enough, resulting in him staying on the ground and squealing loudly in desperation for his embattled human.

A fear spread in Marisa's spirit and this fear was well manifested by the incessant cries of her daemon. The altitude didn’t frighten her. It was feeling powerless that did scare her more than anything in this world.

Struggling with both hands and feet repeatedly, she tried to detach herself from the bird before the height was too high to guarantee her survival from the fall. Her efforts hadn't been effective in time for that.

Because within a few seconds that she was kept on her involuntary flight, driven by the enraged bird, he had already lifted them up to the height of a colossal cliff beyond the dense woods.

Marisa's widened eyes then closed tightly as if anticipating the fall at any given moment. Her screams were trapped in her throat and her despair, though contained, was visible from the uncontrollable trembling of her body. The anger of being helpless acted like venom in her veins, to have her mortality defied by forces she herself wished to tamed gave her an overwhelming sense of agony, even worse than any physical injury.

And with that, Marisa longed for power. But what she received was salvation at the hands of the same witch she had rescued.

The shrill sound of something approaching became evident as it collided with Marisa’s captor. The feral red bird howled in pain for the arrow that struck him in his chest. His paws then detached from Marisa’s robes, dropping her off the cliff edge for a moment before she ended up being rescued by the icy hands of the witch who had finally defeated her aggressive opponent.

"You are saved now."

The woman’s voice was misty tempered with tenderness. Up close, the amiability reflected on the witch’s eyes that had just took her hands to lift her off the cliff was overwhelming, especially when this kindness was condensed with a seemingly larger-than-life presence.

Suddenly, Marisa felt a somewhat heated dizziness. Not only by the effect of the witch in question, but because of the vertigo provoked by the fall.

Marisa's deplorable condition was notable by the attentive witch, since she manage to hold Marisa once again due her state of imbalance. Her eyes where only half open when she sensed a silk veil being wrapped on her shoulders among with soft arms that remained sustaining her as a cozy safety net.

"I'm going to fly us to where your daemon is located."

A simple agreement nod was all Marisa felt able to provide in response, but that ended up being an adequate enough permission for the witch to guide her in a gentle flight along the same path she had forcibly traveled previously.

Flying this way was magical in such a unique form. Marisa received comfort by the coolness of the sky and the softness of the veil around her shoulders. The harshness of life seemed distant in that small fragment of moment that manages to bring a flash of tranquility, profound enough to overshadow the radiance of charged expectations, warm yearnings and internal demands that Marisa had to endure day after day.

When she had been laid down on the ground to be greeted by her daemon, she hoped she could return to the witch’s embrace someday.

But Marisa was fairly satisfied in obtaining answers to everything she wanted and even more.

Rested with her back against a very large and ancient tree, her daemon at her left side and the witch at her right, Marisa could hear the witch telling her about the forest and what caused her ruthless battle with the red bird while they both took care of the witch’s wounds, utilizing the assistance of the emergency kit that Marisa carried in her bag.

Serafina was the witch’s name, and she was exuberant in both essence and appearance. Marisa was enthusiastic about being in the woman’s presence and being able to finally make sense of the lights she had saw during full moon, along with all the anomalies she had captured/witnessed during her childhood.

Those woods were witches’ territory, a neutral field where they could explore their powers in full expansion without damaging nature around them in any way. It was a blessed place, but the power exhaled by the forest also attracted dark, hidden forces that needed to be combated. Marisa had been aware of the existence of witches in the past but never really cared so much in exploring beyond the basic knowledge of them.

However, being able to see one this so close – being able to fly _alongside_ with one – was something completely unexpected.

The night went off among gentle breezes and informative conversation. Serafina’s purplish veil still wrapped in her shoulders warmed her from the wind, but it seemed to also bring solace and an eminent lightness into Marisa's normally racing heart. The view of the river amid the woods colossal trees brought a sense of serenity Marisa had never experienced before. There, in Serafina's presence, Marisa felt a singular type of peace.

Ahead on the sky’s horizon, a snow goose was then spotted by both women reaching their direction in majestic fast speed. Serafina’s daemon emanated a pleasing yet purposeful presence.

“Well, I believe it's time to say goodbye, Mrs. van Zee. Kaisa came to inform me of certain tasks I need to attend to”, Serafina announced at the exactly instant that Kaisa had landed on the ground and adjusted her wings close to her body elegantly.

Then, Serafina tried to get up alone against the tree, but due to the fragility of her still wounded condition her knees gave in back to the ground once she didn’t find the proper balance. Marisa, realizing this difficulty, took off the veil around her shoulders to put it back in the witch’s shoulders, all in order to wrap her own hands there in order to offer the necessary strength to help her get back on her feet properly.

Once settled and grounded, Serafina moved away from Marisa’s touch. Only to reach for it once again in the act of holding her hand in such reverent way that brought a warmth into Marisa’s cheeks.

Meanwhile, Kaisa and Ozymandias could both be found side by side manifesting a similar comfortable posture. Ozymandias’s palms reach cautiously to touch Kaisa's wings in a restrained form of socialization and Kaisa remained very at ease leading happily into his caress. The contact between them was contained, yet notably tender.

“Mrs. Van Zee, you already helped me too much. How will I ever be able to reciprocate you accordingly?” Serafina’s question sounded like genuine eagerness merged scintilla of a restrained devotion.

Eyes with distinct forms of intensity were connected and a silent pause gave enough space to Marisa to think profoundly about her opinions when she became satisfied in answering with a smirk sculpting her lips subtly.

“Let me have full access of the forest mysteries. And come visit me at the next full moon here in this tree. You will be reciprocating to me this way.”

An alluring smile shone on Serafina's face at Marisa's request, the vivacity highlighted in her crystalline eyes complemented her auroral features.

And in a way to seal the deal between them, Serafina firmed her hold in Marisa's hand to shake it with cordial dexterity whilst vocalizing agreement with pure delighted enthusiasm expressed clearly in her tone.

“It will be my honor to grant you this. I will be expecting you.”

~

The days passed with lunar nights and wild expositions of nature among witches’ magic. Marisa ached to possess such raw power, such control to encompass the skies like a manageable element. And the forest manifested its presence as if it had a presential essence of their own.

During the autumn that she had reserved to stay in her hometown, she was able to witness seven full moons in the forest in the company of Serafina. And the connection between them took shape of a comforting and cozy manner that was nothing like what Marisa had ever experienced in her life before.

It was a singular form of a friendship. Their dialogues were replete of intellectual clarity and dreamlike comfortable silence.

Marisa spent her mornings and afternoons anxiously consulting the calendar, longing to find herself gazing at the starry night skies side by side with Serafina.

And that was how they were now in their usual place of meeting. Even under the drops of a rain that failed to cease because of turbulent clouds that echoed harsh thunders. But Marisa still arrived there with her daemon following her from a certain guarded distance and a raincoat protecting her frame.

"I wasn't sure you would come, given the storm", Marisa confessed with a repressed relief. In her interior, she had hoped to encounter the other woman more than she could ever admit out loud or even to herself.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world. The full moon is still there, you see. Although hidden by clouds, it remains emanating its substance in our atmosphere. And the forest feels it, while I craved to find you here again", the way Serafina was able to profess her truthful feelings around their rendezvous made Marisa's chest ache against her livid heartbeats.

When she had just positioned herself below the ancient tree and on Serafina's left, Marisa promptly said what she had been avoiding commenting on since the arrangement between them had been installed.

“I will be leaving this town tomorrow morning, Serafina”.

A decompensated silence reigned the atmosphere around them after Marisa's announcement. Somehow, this was the first unnatural silence they have ever faced together. There was so much left unsaid – mostly on Marisa's part.

For she was only at the beginning of establish grandiose means for herself. Being able to see the forest in full expansion and to make part of the witches’ world for a while felt stupendous. Still, her expansion didn't stop there, taking into consideration that not even the universe could stop expanding itself below humanity's understanding.

The only downfall that came in leaving this place behind was the peace she would lose, a peace that remained lodged in her heart every time she was under the moonlight – with Serafina. And yearning memories consumed her inner thoughts among the raindrops. All the moments she shared options with Serafina, that she saw her manifesting magic and flying as it she was part of the sky. Eating strawberries and homemade lunches in between their talks. Subtle yet so heartwarming touches every now and then. The time they walked on the riverside, right where the reflection of the moon was fixed on the mirror of the waters... and how Serafina managed to make her feel like she was walking along the stars with only her feet under water.

The universe seemed a little smaller in comparison to those times. However, the world was still making its way around the sun. And after each night, there was a day where Marisa needed to conquer without relying on the comfort of a magical forest and an affable witch.

The rain echoed in contact with thick, wet leaves. A harsh wind moved trees and grass, forming a repetitive symphony that was only obfuscated by the return of Serafina's speech.

“Then I shall give you something to remember me”, Serafina said calmly, not showing any turbulence in her voice that their broken silence had previously indicated.

The witch moved closer to Marisa with a defined purpose conducting her intentions. Her sudden proximity made Marisa unease and vulnerable. She captured the exactly instant where her disquietude turned into curiosity when Serafina reached to remove the compass she always carried to find her ways into the woods right from Marisa's raincoat pocket.

Serafina then invoked a petite delphinium flower that emanated a purple glowing energy. She skillfully linked the flower on the compass’s bigger pointer. After achieving what she wished, she returned the compass to Marisa’s possession at the same time she explained her action.

“Anytime you wish to see me, you just need to touch this flower and it will lead me to you.”

As their shoulders were touching, their backs resting against the tree and their eyes transfixed trying to share a similar unspoken language, Marisa put the compass back on her pocket without looking away from the witch who made an entire universe become compact enough to fit in the palm of her hands.

“Thank you for this”, Marisa’s gratitude was properly expressed. However, her truthful emotion was omitted in her voice. Only her eyes conveyed the authentic significance she had for the witch's gesture.

“If you were ever to need my help, I shall vow to offer my most devoted assistance. For I am in eternal debt to you.”

Serafina’s devoted words ignited amber flames in Marisa’s soul. And a plenteous satisfaction reigned her reflections while analyzing the whole situation she was in and what it all meant at the long run. A formidable witch was loyal to her – she smiled with a hidden malice shaping her feline-like face; her astuteness was combined with her absolute bliss. Serafina was fond and devoted to her and had gave her means to establish contact whenever she needed.

Marisa's desire in obtaining power and absolute control was still in process. But beginning it with such benevolent associate was an indication of a divinely bright future to cherish for.

To seal their bond one more time, Serafina took the human's hand and shake it in sync with Marisa's retribution. But she complements this deed by leading Marisa's back hand to rest against her lips to place a warm kiss on the fresh skin of the woman who she wanted to share in other precious moments, such as the ones they had already cultivated.

A hearty shiver crossed Marisa's spine in response to the kiss, and a feral thunder enveloped the skies in sequence.

Whether between starry nights or thunderstorms nights, Marisa knew that her bond with Serafina was far more glorious than any exterior influences. And she just wanted to expand all they were building with that startling vow formed by a debt.


	2. Silhouette

There was a wave of satisfaction coming from an accomplished achievement enfolding Marisa as she walked through the vast empty hall of the Magisterium. Her fast-sharp steps repealed any form of insecurity to manifest and a tangible avid confidence seemed to refine her gelid facet. The path of reaching glory on narrow routes was one of slow progress, and with a vast range of adversities.

But it was her chosen path.

Marisa was just at the beginning of her association with the Holy Church. The meeting she was able to attend this day was definitely a promising start to form a benevolent alliance that she could establish herself to grow without simply using her husband's influence.

To think about Edward had provoked a distinct disgust and malleable guilt to lodge into Marisa’s chest, all because it led her to remember of Asriel.

Given into an unusual urge to pause before she could walk the door that would direct her out of the vast building, Marisa stopped in front of the large window that gave a grandiose view of a livid orange sunset.

Reflections came to dig up the fertile soil of her mind. Endorsing her inner flames with ambitious motives was something she did constantly, both as a need for mental stimulation and for a sense of fulfillment. Grieving about her sins – especially in an exposed environment – was out of the question for her.

Still, there she was.

Contemplating a natural event of the earth’s route around the sun under the earth’s atmosphere. The light reflecting the golden glass window brought a unique glimpse to the sun’s rays and this illumination appeared to align perfectly upon Marisa's frame in her current position.

She felt the sun’s warmth covering more than her body, she felt it irradiating throughout her soul. Marisa had always been unable to feel a connection with her daemon, to the point that she repeatedly realized how capable she was in distancing herself from him without never fully understanding how – and yet, she didn’t persuade to unravel this enigma. Mostly because she wanted to detached herself from the raw exposure of her soul.

Her daemon was a vivid illustration of everything she hated most about herself – her ruthless manners, her dark layers that could explode at any moment. There were times when she wanted to hide him from the world, just as she longed to hide everything that made her conscious about herself.

Her nature was untamed. Her shadows were vast and visible in the warm heaven-like sunlight.

Beside Asriel, she felt exposed. Not in an entirely unpleasant way, but it wasn’t entirely comfortable either. It was a mental connection, a carnal conquest. An impulse induced by both their similarities and their differences.

Edward was a means to an end. A necessary evil. An unfortunate discomfort just like a scar that keeps opening before its ideal healing.

Marisa would try everything to avoid the openness of her interior. Her inside battles should remain well-maintained around the corners of her mind.

There was, however, a place where she had been exposed completely like never before. There was someone whose light was able to reach her even under the tide of darkness surrounding her form.

Marisa allowed herself to close her eyes to that memory, she was then transported to an era where the sun felt bright – but not oppressing or judgmental. Where the obscurity felt calmly lighter and the wind felt tenderly empowering.

Where a cordial voice would share tales of pure magic within forces beyond Marisa’s understanding. Purple silk laying over her shoulders. Starry sapphire eyes and ebony curls composing such a kind, unforgettable visage.

Years had passed from that unique time and its importance in Marisa’s heart made her feel somehow fragile, as well as defensive. A part of her still inhabited in the witch’s forest along with Serafina. A part of her craved that she could be there right now, seeing this sunset side by side with her.

This link they had formed could disruptor Marisa’s composure in a manner of seconds. She knew that she would always desire much more than simplicity. She wanted to rule the edges of the universe, wanted to consume the stars and to have a hold a switch over the sun, to use it only to conspire with her own needs.

Even so, Marisa still ached for Serafina’s presence and devotion so avidly and fervently. She never had contacted the witch in over six years. It felt like a lifetime. Sometimes, it even felt like a lucid, intimate dream.

But the greatest evidence that the bond they had was true above dreamlike memories was the compass.

Taking her hand in the pocket of her formal pencil greenish skirt, Marisa reached for the concrete proof of her fascination and enveloped it in her palm, immediately reopening her eyes after feeling an electrifying shiver.

When she brought it within reach of her sight, Marisa opened it carefully and felt her heart flutter as she saw the delphinium flower located in the compass’s pointer. Raw purplish energy was emanated, demonstrating that the object’s magic remained alive and perceptible. And it took Marisa such a herculean strength to not touch the flower and finally summoning Serafina.

Her hesitation in calling the witch who occupied her recurring thoughts was a factor little explored by her, given many complications. At the same time that Marisa wanted her, long for her, crave for her with a terrifying constancy, she also feared meeting the other woman once more.

Marisa deeply feared her unholy feelings for Serafina, feared her own intensity and how much her emotions could take possession of her and ruin everything they cultivated in the past, if she allowed them to.

The sun was setting almost entirely, but the flames were evident. Marisa still found herself in open conflict, yearning for more than she seemed to fully understand, so in a rasped flick of fist, she closed the compass and put it back in her pocket as she positioned herself out of reach of the sun, walking ahead to the end of the corridor without looking back as the darkness of the coming evening sculpted her silhouette.

~

The dead of night broke into agonizing palpitations, desolating Marisa’s sour, tense chest. She entered her main bedroom lit only by the waning moonlight with a wild tremor located in her livid palms. The air expelled from her lungs was heavily charged due an elevated anxiety she had never experienced before, until now. She was pregnant, and the child was definitely the result of her unbridled relationship with Asriel, there was no doubt of that.

Edward was out of town on business during this dreadful day of discoveries, and Marisa had never been so grateful for that small piece of luck, since she couldn’t be grateful for anything other than that. Her body moved beyond her control through tremble steps on the porcelain floor. Having reached this level of extreme dazedness, her vision was turbid while her mind was dissociating in an attempt to absorb more deeply the abyss of abrasion that her situation was.

Her entire body vibrated in realization of the body that inhabited within her. There was no escaping that, nor the consequences of her incalculable sins.

Marisa felt her guilty turning into imperiousness. Anguished yet again by something that existed inside her, she ended up reeling until her back collided on the corner wall of the room and her whole body clashed on the floor.

Under the darkness of the environment, her gaze shifted until she found the flaming, golden creature that accompanied her torment in precise synchrony. Ozymandias seemed to have adopted a saddened and fragile look while staring at her, he was portraying an image totally incompatible with the assertive aggressiveness of his actual nature.

And Marisa presumed that she was exactly like him at that moment: weak, swallowed in a corner, and petrified with the prospect of a future having to face external and internal disgrace due to her own actions.

It was like seeing into an occult mirror carved beneath the depths of her spirit, and that sight unleashed unbridled fury in her core.

Unable to control her furor, Marisa rose up from her catatonic state and moved towards her daemon, using her bare hands to hit him with repeated blows, causing his strident cries to echo across the walls, and she felt as if his screams were a vivid manifestation of the ones locked in her burning throat.

Marisa kept striking him until she felt him stop screaming, and when she saw her daemon lying on the floor, with his body exposing an astonishing vulnerability, swallowed after being hurt by her spiteful actions, she finally succumbed in disembroiling into fervent tears beside him.

Her wild cries echoed in the same intensity as her daemon past screams. It was desperate how chaotic her emotions were, how much she wanted to open her own core now and tear it apart from the inside out.

When Marisa least expected it, Ozymandias moved one of his golden paws to touch her hand in a timid attempt to calm her down. The gesture was brief and subtle, and she felt him trying to comfort her as he represented a small part of her, wanting to recollect the pieces of her torment to realign it in more concrete formats.

But Marisa moved away from his touch and dislocated her body to lean against the wall again, trying to gradually control her cries until they ceased.

A slow breath followed by another brought calm to the layers of the atmosphere. Pertinent despair and recurrent shame were drifting in between comforting reflections.

The tears had stopped, her swollen face softened, and a sudden solace enveloped her body, all caused by a divine remembrance coming from the wind through the open window. It was the powerful aroma of fresh oak. Such nostalgically scent brought shivers in Marisa’s spine. Appeased with this fragrance so similar to the vast trees in the witches’ forest, she guided her hand in her albescent nightgown’s pocket and picked up the compass, using it as an anchor in the whirlpool of nebulosity attached to her.

Marisa opened the compass and attentively observed the delphinium flower like it was the main source of her obsession, as she always did.

Her sins were permeating the air currents like dust, staining her with drops of sharp tears while being able to awake the most animalistic side of her essence. And yet in the midst of all this, her purest secretive sin remained being her eager desire to see Serafina again, and to possess the witch in her palm the same way she was holding that enchanted compass.

Reluctantly, Marisa contained herself from touching the irresistible flower once more. Her self-control over this act was crucial especially at this instant, because she needed to restrain herself from ruining her association with such benevolent witch simply for her sinful desires. Marisa needed Serafina’s useful loyalty in order to better achieve her goals.

Meanwhile, the child growing in her womb would be able to find herself around the world, just like Marisa did.

Planning ahead meticulously her next actions and condensing the flame from her chest to bring her logic back after her shame had took over her being, Marisa ended up letting herself be further enveloped by the night breeze. She clung her thoughts to the wind to quiet her heart while pressing the compass already closed against her chest.

And being there, with her eyes closed, Marisa tried to mentally navigate through the air, wishing to fly alongside her memories of Serafina.

~

Arduous months passed and Marisa had given birth to Lyra under dense conditions. Revealing to Edward that “their” child had died had been an easy act to commit in the end, and the facility of it had made Lyra’s arrangements under the care of Ma Costa an effortless adjustment.

A part of Marisa did want to accompany Asriel to live at the cottage in Oxfordshire. Still, another part of her craved for more than that.

The dualities of her desires made her distressed, always alert to confront internal and external struggles at any given time. Her inquietude, however, went unnoticed by everyone around her.

People – especially the influent ones – are usually too self-absorbed to notice the nuances present in their interactions with others, and this detail was particularly true under the context of social formal conversations.

It had been a little over a month since Lyra’s birth and everyone in Marisa and Edward’s circle of acquaintances knew, or thought they knew, about the supposed death of their first child. Nonetheless, during the first event that Marisa had attended since that occurrence, she was able to avoid receiving too many questions about her emotional state or profound details about her firstborn daughter’s alleged death. It was too easy to dismiss the curious chatters and focus on solely listen charmingly to the superfluous conversations of those who she knew that had some relevance to serve as prospective leverage to her via casual connection.

The event in question was surrounded by high-ranking politicians and academics, many of whom were longtime friends of Edward, and Marisa took the most advantage of such environments. She felt so at her element there.

This was supposed to be the last event that Marisa would attend before leaving to follow Asriel to the cottage, so she tried her best to savor this occasion as if it were the last time she would have such a wide reach with these powerful people. And the sharp, incessant echo of her conflicts of wills expressed dissatisfaction at this mere attempt.

To leave now, when she had been able to have a reunion with the Holy Church, when she was making process in her individual studies and was making such meaningful contacts seemed like a gigantesque loss — as if all the effort she had put in these long years enduring her unhappy marriage with Edward just to get there had been all in vain.

Was she really in love with Asriel? Was this love enough to make her leave the life she tried so hard to reach? Was _Lyra_ enough? Marisa wasn’t comfortable answering honestly to this – but maybe her own reluctance to respond at all was enough of a response for these questions.

Regardless of any conflicts and adversities that Lyra would experience, Marisa felt somehow that their separation was necessary for their own expansion. She actually felt that bitter certainty rest heavily in her wild heart, like a crater opening her internal organs or a vile poison circling through her veins.

No matter her choices or lack of it, her inner dualism war would remain.

Marisa had already had to deal with something similar in the past: the desire to grow in extraordinary ways and the desire to cultivate a common life while remaining in a special place. Having to leave her hometown and distance herself from the witches’ forest had the same impact on her, mainly because she ended up losing Serafina in the process. Of course, not entirely, yet it still felt like a loss.

The first days that Marisa found herself out of Serafina’s reach were desperately agonizing. In respective, she tried to control her urges and to think logically to operate her next step in order to conduct her life to grandness.

At the end, the comparison held resemblance simply for her own traitorous emotions working against her in both situations. Because a sinful crave for a tempting witch that had marked her existence in a divine way was completely dissimilar from choosing between raising a daughter with a lover or choosing to continue with her personal development.

But what was a child if not an extension of herself?

Marisa always felt open to abandoning parts of herself for the sake of achieving evolution and improvement. What could be different now?

Finding no real resolution to her stresses, Marisa continued with the flow of the party, lavishing herself in luxurious champagne between well-established connections and luscious foods.

The golden lighting shone against the alabaster porcelain floor, occasioning a masterful finesse to the ambience. Wide chandeliers dominated some areas of the ceiling, while the large windows had their aureate curtains spread, thus invoking a spacious view of the night sky.

As the party continued, the minutes became hours and several guests were absent to return to their other, priority occupations. Edward, as usual at events like this, had returned home early in order to rest for his morning appointments. And Marisa, realizing the eventual departure of each guest little by little, found herself increasingly apprehensive, returning to face her internal struggles again.

As her mind wandered through dilemmas, her body guided her to follow the path in direction of the balcony at the end of the main hall. The gentle gale and the starry sky seemed to attract her with extraordinary force.

She positioned herself before the greatness of the nightfall, seeing the magnitude already so well-known of the stars reflecting the brightness of her eyes. The moon was in its full state and its incandescence impacted Marisa in a similar way to the sunset that she had confronted in the Magisterium.

Being prone to unrestrained reflections, Marisa ended up seeing the moonlight as a reflection of her own, because it was under the darker atmospheres that she was felt most radiant. Under the sun rays, it was as if her sins were exposed and the rest of her presence was erased due to that exposure. But among the lunar illumination, her and her sins were able to coexist mutually without one singular aspect overshadowing the other.

Marisa always thought she preferred the night over the day because in the darkness, it was more difficult for her to be seen. But in reality, she _did_ wished to be seen – only in a genuine and totalized way.

Her gaze shifted from the moon to catch a glimpse of the object her hand had already collected from the small pocket of her ivory dress. The familiar vision of the compass enchanted by Serafina never failed to make Marisa’s palpitations go uneven.

In these six years that Marisa controlled herself in summoning the witch, she never ceased to look forward for this reunion, and having the power to make it happen at any moment was both a blessing and a curse.

And perhaps it was because she felt that, in a matter of a few days, the direction of her life would change completely – whether for better or for worse; but now, on that isolated balcony, with the full moon and the stars as witnesses, Marisa felt her need to summon Serafina as pulsating and grand as possible.

So, with her eyes gently closed and in a simple movement of opening the compass, Marisa lightly touched the magic flower while letting her inner voice accompany the magic of the flower, expressing solely an intimate and constant wish.

_“Please, come find me”._


End file.
